There'll Be No Blue Memories Then
by finkpishnets
Summary: Oneshot. They drive for three days, hours bleeding into each other as they take turns behind the wheel, enjoying the freedom and the heat of the summer sun. Luke/Casey, mentions of Luke/Noah.


**Title:** There'll Be No Blue Memories Then

**Author:** finkpishnets

**Fandom:** As The World Turns

**Rating:** R

**Characters/Pairing:** Luke/Casey (mentions of Luke/Noah)

**Spoilers:** Up to and including the week beginning the 16th of June for Luke's plot line. Not really centred on anything particular where Casey's story is concerned.

**A/N:** Title from the song 'My Happiness' by Connie Francis.

* * *

He finds Luke stretched out besides the Snyder Pond, hands behind his head and looking deceptively relaxed; Casey's known him for too long, though, and can tell the difference between calm and the forced version that Luke uses as a front more often than not.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asks, dropping down next to the other boy and picking aimlessly at the grass.

"Not really," Luke says, and Casey knows instantly that it's a Noah thing. Luke has a certain tone when the Snyder's are having family troubles, another when it's classes, and another when he's fallen out with a friend or been told a secret he doesn't particularly want to be privy to. This tone is one that's only surfaced in the last year.

They sit in silence for a while, staring at the water, both lost in thought.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Casey asks eventually, watching Luke out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes," Luke replies a moment later.

Half an hour later they're on the road, hastily packed duffle bags piled on the back seat. They have no idea where they're going or how long for, but as Oakdale fades further and further into the distance, neither of them particularly cares.

* * *

"We should stop for food," Luke points out as they see another sign telling them they've reached Indiana, and wonders briefly why they're headed east. He's pretty sure you're meant to head west on road trips, or maybe he's just read Kerouac too many times.

"At the next stop," Casey agrees, hitting the unreliable radio _once, twice, three times _with his fist until Blue Oyster Cult blares loudly from the speakers. He twists the volume down until the music's nothing more than background noise and focuses back on the road ahead.

"So, you want to tell me what's got you running?" Luke asks, staring out of the window.

"You want to tell me what's got _you_ running?" Casey parrots, and Luke offers him nothing more than a dry glance.

"Maybe we should agree right now that we don't talk about Oakdale," Luke suggests, and Casey finds himself snorting.

"If we rule out Oakdale as a conversation point, we're going to have run out of topics in two hours," he says, grabbing a toffee from a small bag on the dashboard and offering one to Luke.

"Fair enough," Luke agrees, the corners of his mouth pulling up into a smile. It's the first one Casey's seen from him in weeks.

Luke doesn't know when it turned to evening – the clock in the display stopped sometime in the last decade – but the sky's streaked with navy and mauve and the early summer heat's beginning to cool off.

"What did you tell your parents?" Casey asks.

"That we were _bonding_." Casey looks at him, mildly alarmed and Luke grins. "Nah, I told them I needed to get away, clear my head, that kind of thing. Honestly, I think they're so caught up in whatever problem's hit their marriage this time that they didn't particularly care."

"I always thought your parents were pretty stable," Casey sighs, offering a sympathetic smile. "I guess it's a rule of living in Oakdale: no happiness can ever last long."

It's the wrong thing to say; Luke goes quiet again, his gaze focused intently on the glass to his right and his fingers tapping a disjointed pattern on his thigh.

"Sorry," Casey says after a minute.

"S'okay," Luke tells him, but doesn't look away from the window.

* * *

"Hey," Casey says softly, nudging Luke's shoulder gently to wake the other boy.

"How long have I been asleep?" Luke asks, voice groggy, raising a hand to rub the back of his neck.

"A couple of hours. We've just hit Indianapolis."

"Wow, you should've woken me," Luke tells him but offers a grateful smile all the same, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "We gonna find somewhere to crash?"

"There's a motel a few blocks over that's sign said vacancies. I thought we'd grab a bite to eat and go check in," Casey says, swinging his aching legs out onto concrete and rejoicing in the opportunity to stretch out.

"Okay," Luke agrees, mimicking Casey's actions before walking towards the all-night diner they've parked in front of.

Fluorescent lights flicker overhead as they walk in, illuminating the cracked red vinyl of the booths and the dull shine of the chrome countertops. There's an old fifties tune that Casey vaguely recognizes playing on the jukebox, a woman's voice singing about how '_There'll be no blue memories then_' and Casey wonders why anyone would voluntarily listen to something that sounds so depressing.

"What can I get you boys?" the waitress asks as they sit down, giving them both an appreciative once over. Luke doesn't notice, too busy reading over the greasy menu, desperately trying to find something that won't make his stomach turn over and Casey does the same, trying to ignore the hungry and vaguely desperate look of the middle aged woman next to them with her candy striped dress two sizes too small and fuchsia lipstick on her teeth.

"Uh, burger, fries and coffee, please," Luke tells her, offering a tight lipped smile.

"Same," Casey says, towering his fingers. They both watch her walk away, waylaid by a couple of truckers who seem more interested in company than the tuna melts in front of them.

"We should come up with a game plan," Luke says after a moment, and Casey nods.

"Maybe we should just get to one place and then choose the next from there," he says. "Honestly, I don't know when I'm going to want to go home."

"Me either," Luke says, relief in his voice. "It would be cool to keep heading east, maybe head up towards Boston."

"Boston's a long way," Casey says, mildly surprised.

"I guess," Luke agrees, face falling. "I mean, if you'd rather we didn't..."

"No," Casey interrupts. "Boston sounds good to me. Hey, maybe we should go all the way up to Vermont and see if there're any manmade slopes running."

Luke's smile returns. "Yeah, though I should warn you, my balance is non-existent on a pair of roller skates, I have _no idea_ how bad I'd be on skis."

"Alright," Casey laughs, "skiing is out. I don't wanna be lugging you all the way to the hospital with a broken leg."

"Thanks," Luke says, suddenly all seriousness, and Casey in very aware that they're not joking anymore.

"You're welcome," he replies, meeting Luke's gaze and offering a smile.

The rest of the meal is spent reminiscing about life before prison and before Noah, and it feels sort of like old times and sort of like a new start.

* * *

They drive for three days, hours bleeding into each other as they take turns behind the wheel, enjoying the freedom and the heat of the summer sun. Luke likes sitting for ages whenever he sees something particularly inspirational, and Casey leaves him alone with his notebook, jotting down whatever words spring to mind, wondering whether Luke would ever let him read it if he asked.

They're both sporting the beginnings of a tan, the freckles on Luke's nose making an appearance, and the sun beginning to bleach strands of Casey's hair. The flannel and baseball shirts are relegated to the floor behind the front seats as they rummage through their luggage for something cooler, settling for tank tops and flimsy t-shirts that allow a little relief.

The musty smell of _boy_ is beginning to permeate the car, and Luke insists they stop at a Wal-Mart to buy an air freshener, so there's now a lime green fir tree hanging from the rear view mirror apparently making everything smell like a pine forest. Casey doesn't really think it's doing much good, but then he's spent time in prison where the smell of sweat is the least of your worries and so couldn't care less.

"We could go to Atlantic City," Luke suggests, a two dollar map spread out in front of him as they sit on the hood of the car.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Casey tells him.

"Oh," Luke replies, suddenly looking guilty. "Of course. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

"How about Ocean City?" Luke asks after a few minutes, lower lips caught between his teeth as he studies the map diligently.

"Sun, sand, and surf? Sounds awesome, dude," Casey grins.

"Oh, come _on_," Luke laughs. "You've never been on a surfboard in your _life_."

"Well then, now sounds like a great time to try, doesn't it?"

Casey playfully shoves his elbow into Luke's ribcage and Luke retaliates by pulling him into a head lock, thus starting an impromptu play fight that results in a bruised thigh and a grazed shoulder.

"You actually bit me!" Luke complains, sprawled out on grass trying to get his breath back whilst examining his reddening forearm.

"You told me to," Casey smirks, lazily patting him on the chest from his position by Luke's side.

"I was being facetious," Luke scolds, his glare holding too much amusement for Casey to take him seriously, and so he just laughs, gradually pushing himself to his feet and offering Luke a hand.

"Come on," he says. "Ocean City won't wait for long."

* * *

The town is crowded when they finally get there. The real summer rush hasn't hit it yet and it doesn't take them more than a couple of tries to find a room for a few nights so they spend their first evening walking up and down the boardwalk, taking in the Atlantic and eating hot dogs.

The air is overly warm, occasionally tapered by a breeze from the ocean, and the smell of salt and sand is everywhere. For a moment, Casey feels the overwhelming sense that only good things can happen here. He knows it's not true, not really, but it's a nice feeling all the same.

They head back to the motel, classier than any of the ones they've stayed in so far, and take turns showering until both are feeling much less grimy. They sleep with the windows open, Luke kicking at his duvet as he tries, unsuccessfully, to get comfortable whilst Casey simply resorts to stripping down to his boxers, but neither are able to sleep for a long time.

Casey wakes at some point during the night to find Luke missing from his bed on the other side of the room. It's three am and there's no sound coming from either the adjoining bathroom or the balcony, so Casey throws on a pair of shorts and the t-shirt that's lying in a crumpled ball at his feet and goes in search.

It doesn't take long. Luke's sitting on the beach, legs curled up to chest, staring out to sea and looking as though he's off in his own world. Silently, Casey sits beside him.

"Tell me a story," Luke says after a while, sounding drained and distant.

"You're the writer," Casey points out. Luke doesn't reply and Casey shifts a bit to get comfortable. "Alright, um, once when I was like six or seven, my mom took me to stay with some of her friends out in California for a couple of weeks. There weren't any other kids, just me, and I remember being really, really bored for the first few days, just bumming around this ladies house and complaining about how there weren't any cool animals or proper parks or anything. I guess I got on my mom's nerves after a while, because she dragged me out of the house and down to the beach. I think that was probably the first time I'd ever seen the sea – I mean, I'd seen all the lakes back home, but this was different. I was in, like, complete awe; it was _huge!_ I spent the rest of the trip down on that beach just looking out across the ocean. I kicked up a right fuss when mom told me we had to go home."

They sit in silence for ages, both just staring out at the Atlantic, and all Casey can hear is the ocean and Luke's breathing.

"Noah and I broke up," Luke says suddenly, squinting his eyes as though he can physically shut of the memories. "He said he needed a break from us. I thought I could handle it; I thought, a bit of time to calm down and he'd realize how much I loved him and how stupid it was to throw away what we had over…" His voice catches and Casey continues to stare straight ahead, allowing Luke the time to compose himself. "Anyway, I guess I just thought that I was worth fighting for."

He sounds so lost and Casey's heart constricts painfully in his chest. He knows there are words he could offer but they all seem to be stuck on his tongue and so, helplessly, he puts his hand on Luke's arm, relaxing when Luke leans into the touch.

"I'm sorry," he finally says, and it's as inadequate out in the open as it was in his head.

"Not your fault," Luke replies, wiping the sleeve of his sweatshirt over his eyes.

They sit together on the beach, watching the tide until the sun begins to rise and the sound of life resuming hits their ears.

Something's changed, Casey thinks, though he's not sure what.

* * *

They spend another five days driving, stopping nowhere in particular, soaking up the sun and being friends in a way that they haven't for a long time. Luke's hair is turning blond again; Casey can't help but associate it with better times, and he knows his own is lighter than it has been since he was a child. Their clothes are starting to smell, and Luke's scratched a hole through the knee of his shorts, but they've long since stopped caring.

Time seems to be moving differently; they've been gone for less than a fortnight but it feels like months. There's a confidence between them now that Casey doubts they'd ever have been able to forge in Oakdale where life revolves around drama and other people's problems. It's enough to make him wish that they never had to go back.

"I think," Luke says, stretched out on a grass verge, one hand drawing patterns on his knee through the ripped fabric, "that this has been really cathartic."

Casey looks at him, eyebrow raised. "How?"

"It's like, if I'd stayed in Oakdale, I'd probably still be chasing Noah around, begging him to give our relationship another chance. Now I've had some time to think things through, and I don't want to be _that guy_ – the guy who can't let go. I don't want to be in a relationship where I'm more committed than he is." He pauses, looking up at the sky. "Maybe that's mean, I don't know. I mean Noah's dad just died, Ameera was sent to prison. He has every right to be upset."

Casey rolls over on to his side, propping his head in his hand. "That wasn't your fault, Luke. None of it. Look, I don't know everything that's been going on with you guys, but I know a lot more than most people, and Noah's been acting like an idiot for a long time."

Luke sighs, staring at his hands. "Yeah, I know. I guess I just hoped _he'd_ realize that."

"Luke," Casey says, grabbing the other boy's jaw and turning his face towards him, "it's not your fault."

Luke looks at him for a moment, eyes heavy and glazed, and their faces inches apart. "I know," he replies, and it comes out as nothing more than a whisper.

* * *

"Those girls are checking you out," Casey grins, nudging Luke in the stomach with his elbow.

"Actually, I think it's _you_ they're looking at. After all, you're the one who decided that today was great day to go shirtless." His comment's sarcastic but there's no hiding the laughter in his voice.

"Good point."

"Well, are you going to go and talk to them?" Luke asks, watching Casey carefully, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"No chance. Earlier I heard them talking about the merits of _High School Musical_ and how Zac Efron is, like, the hottest guy _ever_."

"He is pretty cute," Luke laughs, dropping backwards and propping himself up on his arms.

Casey stares at him in mock seriousness. "Snyder, you disappoint me."

Luke just laughs harder.

"Oh, damn," Casey says, eyes widening. "They're coming over!"

Luke snorts. "Oh dear," he says, sarcastically. "Whatever are you going to do?"

There's a moment where a thousand different scenarios pass through Casey's head before he leans down and presses his lips to Luke's. Luke tenses, his heart beat speeding up and complete confusion echoed in his eyes. Casey hasn't thought this through, not really, and he's beginning to panic…

And then Luke's kissing him back and suddenly everything starts to make a lot more sense.

It's fiercer than any kiss he's ever experienced, and there are teeth and tongues and something almost like fighting about it as he grabs Luke's hair, pulling them closer and lying almost entirely on top of him. Casey's never kissed another guy before, never wanted to, but with legs hooked around his own, and Luke's lip in between his teeth, he doesn't remotely care.

"They're gone," Luke says when they finally pull away, both panting harshly, lips swollen and wet.

"Who?" Casey asks, confused.

Luke just smiles and pulls him back down.

* * *

Six more days of driving and stopping, now pierced with the new distraction of desperate kisses and wandering hands. Casey's favorite discovery is how Luke practically purrs when he kisses the soft spot behind his ear, something he does whenever he gets the chance just to watch Luke's cheeks flush and his eyes almost roll up into his head.

"This is crazy," Luke points out one night as they're lying on another motel room bed.

Casey shuts him up with a bruising kiss.

* * *

"I just called my mom to check in," Luke says, and Casey knows straight away where this conversation is going. "Things aren't so great. She thought that her and dad were sorting things out but apparently now he's found someone else and mom doesn't know how serious it is and whether she should even bother fighting for their marriage anymore. She sounded really upset."

Casey kind of hates the elder Snyder's in that moment.

"You want to go back," Casey says, and it's a statement not a question.

"I think I need to," Luke replies, his eyes sad and grateful.

"I know," Casey says.

That night they pack their bags and leave them in a pile by the door as they enjoy the last of their freedom.

It's a first for both of them.

Casey hopes it's not also a last.

* * *

"Home sweet home," Casey mutters as they pass the '_Welcome to Oakdale_' sign.

"We've been gone less than a month," Luke says, voice disbelieving. "So much has changed."

"Has it?" Casey asks, and he hates the unsteady crack in his voice and the way his heart speeds up.

Luke turns to look at him, taking his feet off of the dashboard, and Casey can see the serious expression on his face out of the corner of his eye.

"It has," Luke tells him earnestly, and Casey can't fight back his grin.

"People are going to ask a lot of questions," Casey points out.

"People _always_ ask a lot of questions around here," Luke says, smiling, and Casey knows then that they're actually going to do this. He's not surprised by how happy that makes him.

"So," Casey says after a while, reaching for Luke's hand.

"So," Luke agrees, linking their fingers.

It may be new and exciting and undefined, but most of all, it's _theirs_.


End file.
